The 100 Games
by Red656
Summary: This is a story of the characters of the 100 being placed in the world of Panem. Apologies for this not being listed as the Hunger Games as well, but the option isn"t there. The storyline mainly follows Bellamy and Clarke, so there may be a little Bellarke action, we'll see. Enjoy! (This story is currently on hold)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

 _Hey there everyone! This is my 1st story here, so it might not be too good, plus it's written by a sleep-deprived writer. The plot line is basically that the characters from the 100 are now in the Hunger Games, so we'll see how it goes. Reviews will be greatly appreciated! Please, if you have any advice or corrective criticism, please put in a review, because trust me, I need it._

 _Cheers,_

 _Red_

 **Chapter One**

"Bell, you have to wake up."

Bellamy groaned and rolled over, ignoring his sister.

Octavia rolled her eyes and started to shake him awake. "Get up." She commanded, ripping his blanket and pillows away with a smirk.

"Really O?" He grumbled, shifting to a sitting position before grabbing some pants and a shirt to wear.

Octavia smiled slightly, but there was a shadow in her eyes as she left the room. "Be ready in 15 minutes." She told him, looking over her shoulder.

Bellamy sighed and got ready, walking out of his room with a frown on his face.

Octavia was making breakfast, and he walked over to help her, flashing her an encouraging smile. Deep worry flashed upon his face as the two left the house, walking down to the town square.

The Blakes were just some of the many who were under the control of the government in Panem. They lived in District 4, the fishing district. Most people could weave their own nets, catch fish bare handed, accurately throw a trident, and swim with exceptional skill. Because of this, tributes chosen had a decent chance in the games.

He thought of this with a grimace, trying to comfort himself to no avail. Bellamy hugged his sister before they went their seperate ways. He walked towards the other 17 year old kids, hoping with all of his heart that Octavia wouldn't get chosen for the reaping. Sure, she had but a very few slips with her name on them, but there was still a chance, and that scared him to no end.

Diana, the announcer at the reaping of each district, stepped up to the podium, adorned with ridiculous hairpins, makeup, and jewelry, an electric green wig, and jade tinted skin. "Welcome, welcome, welcome to the reaping of the 98th Hunger Games!" She began to clap with a forced smile, and was returned with silent glares of hatred and contempt. After a long pause, she stated with less cheerfulness "Let's start the drawing. Ladies first!"

Bellamy clenched his fist to his sides, glancing at Octavia, before shifting his gaze back to Diana.

Diana slowly picked a piece of paper up with her long, pointy fingernails. The worry was clear upon Bellamy's face as the woman slowly unfolded the paper and cleared her throat. "This year's District 4 tribute will be..." She looked up at the crowd. "Octavia Blake."

It felt as if a blow had been delt to his heart. Fury and sadness clearly showed in his light brown eyes as he met her gaze. Octavia slowly walked towards the stage, fear plastered upon her face.

"I volunteer as tribute." An all-too-familiar voice called out from behind him.

Bellamy whirled around, and his suspicions were confirmed. His closest friend, Clarke Griffin, was volunteering for O. Another stabbing pain coursed through his heart, almost stronger than before. He let her name slip from his lips, a tear falling down his cheek.

Octavia shook her head quickly. "Clarke, you don't have to do this." She said quietly. "Please don't do this for me..."

"Yes I do." Clarke replied with determination, hugging Octavia and murmuring something before walking towards the stage. As always, she expertly hid her feelings to those who didn't know her well. But to Bellamy, he could see her anger, her sadness, and most prominently, her fear. He instantly knew what he had to do, without a second thought.

"Now for the boys" Diana continued, grabbing a slip of paper and unfolding it with a smile. "James-"

She was cut off by Bellamy stepping forward. "I volunteer as tribute" he called out, determination shining in his eyes. He knew he had to protect Clarke. 'But what about Octavia' a voice whispered in the back of his mind. "Miller, take care of O for me." He commanded his friend, looking over his shoulder, a stoic expression now upon his face. He searched the crowd for his sister, sadness in his eyes when he finally found her. "I'm sorry O" he whispered, hoping she'd read his lips. He began the endless walk to the stage.

"Bellamy, no!" Octavia screamed, running out to him. She gave him a fierce embrace before being taken by the guards. "You have to survive Bell, you have to survive" She yelled, sobbing uncontrollably as she was dragged away. It was all he could do to rip away his gaze, finally reaching the stage.

"Well then" Diana started uncomfortably. "We have our tributes. Happy 98th Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

The guards led Clarke and Bellamy away to their private rooms for their last moments with loved ones. Bellamy walked into his small room and collapsed on the plush red couch. He folded his hands, gazing at them and waiting for his sister. He heard the door open, and looked up, a hopeful smile upon his face before he saw who it was. It was the guard who dragged Octavia away.

"I am sorry, but because of the..." He trailed off. "... current situation, we cannot let you see your sister." He finished

Bellamy jumped up, shoving the guard against the wall. "What the hell do you mean I can't see her?" He yelled. "What is the freaking point of this then, if not to see one of the only people I love?" Fury was plastered upon his features as he glared at the guard.

The guard ripped out his gun, pointing it at Bellamy. "Sir, back away now." He ordered.

Bellamy sighed, collapsing back on the couch in defeat. He held his head in his hands, not allowing himself to cry.

"There is someone else that wants to see you." The guard commented, before walking out.

Replacing him was Abigail, Clarke's mother. She walked over and sat down next to Bellamy. "Clarke tells me you volunteered." She murmured softly.

He nodded silently. He wanted to say about how he thought it was nothing compared to how Clarke volunteered for his sister, to protect him, but he held his tongue.

"I just wanted to thank you for that, it means a lot." Abby replied, pain in her voice.

Bellamy nodded once again, raising his gaze from his lap to her. "Thank you" he replied softly, almost inaudibly.

She nodded and gave him a quick squeeze on the shoulder. "Take care of her." She finished, walking out of the door.

He stood up and walked to Clarke's visitation room. He slowly came in, glancing at Clarke's huddled, crying figure and went over to her, putting an arm over her shoulder.

She shoved his arm off of her and stood up quickly "Dammit Bellamy, what the hell were you thinking?" She asked, anger burning in her bright blue eyes.

"You're asking me that?" He replied incredulously, standing up as well.

"Yes, I am. And I have every right!" She fired back.

"You volunteered for my sister. You are so damn selfless sometimes, and-"

He was interrupted by Clarke replying "I volunteered so that you wouldn't have to lose the most important person in the world to you. You two were going to be okay, but you screwed it up by volunteering for some random person that you don't even know. Why, Bellamy, why?" She questioned furiously.

"Clarke, why don't you get it? Why can't you just understand?" Bellamy shook his head, running a hand through his unruly black hair. "You were trying to protect me, by volunteering for O, but I can't..." He trailed off. "I can't just watch one of my closest friends in an arena with complete strangers trying to kill her."

"Bellamy..." she said his name in a whisper, eyes brimming with tears. She blinked rapidly before hugging him fiercely.

Bellamy stood still, shocked for a few seconds before he hugged her tightly in return, a tear sliding down his cheek and falling into her thick blonde hair.

The two stood like this for a few moments before a guard opened the door. They quickly broke apart, looking at the guard.

"It's time to board the train." He said, walking out.

Bellamy glanced at Clarke before clearing his features of his heightened emotions. By the time they reached the cameras outside, they both showed barely any signs of grief to the untrained eye. Reporters yelled incomprehensible questions, and camera lights flashed every which way. The crowd parted like a sea, making way for the two unfortunate tributes. Clarke hopped onto the train, and after one last gaze towards the immense crowd, Bellamy followed, gazing at District 4 for what he thought might be the last time.

Thanks for reading everyone! Please review and let me know what you think. If I get a few reviews, I may try to make this a weekly/bi-weekly thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**_So, I'm writing Chapter 2. Yay, wish me luck. Warning, it's a bit long._**

 ** _By the way, it'll be switching between Clarke's viewpoint and Bellamy's viewpoint each chapter most likely. Just letting y'all know, to avoid confusion._**

 ** _Thanks Guest for your review. :)_**

 ** _Please review guys, it's our payment on here, and a review really brightens my day and makes this whole thing worth it. Thanks guys!_**

Clarke:

The train doors slammed shut behind them, blissfully blocking the flashing lights, cameras, and the noisy crowd. Immediately, the train began to move with a lurch, causing Clarke to stumble and fall into Bellamy's chest. Bellamy wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his body and she sighed softly, fighting tears.

She broke away from him, smilingly slightly as she walked into the train compartment to her left. Clarke gazed around in awe at the immense amount of food, drinks, and cutlery that filled the compartment. She glanced back at Bellamy and smiled at his shocked features.

"That could feed our whole district." He commented in disbelief, slight disgust flashing upon his face.

"I know, it's pointless isn't it?" A voice called from the back. A man walked over to the pair, studying them briefly. "The name's James. I'm your mentor this year."

Clarke shifted her eyes to Bellamy's, sharing a look that didn't go unnoticed by James.

"You guys dating or something?" James asked, a slight smirk upon his face.

"No!" Clarke replied forcefully at the same time as Bellamy, anger in her voice.

James held up his hands in surrender. "Alright sweetheart, calm down." He retorted. "Jesus." He muttered under his breath, walking away and pouring a glass of whiskey. "So, tell me..." He looked each of them over. "What are your plans?"

Clarke shrugged her shoulders, turning to Bellamy with question in her eyes.

"Survive" Bellamy replied dryly. "Any advice?" He asked sarcastically.

James chuckled. "I survived by hiding in some hell-hole while everyone mauled each other with maces and clubs." His gaze turned dark. "But you seem like a fighter. Don't be too cocky, but use your strengths. I want to tell you to stay away from the Bloodbath, but you'll go no matter what I say." James shrugged. "As for you..." He turned to Clarke. "Stick with him. He'll kick anyone's ass if they get near you."

Clarke flushed, avoiding Bellamy's gaze. She nodded, eyes trained on the ground

"Go get changed and washed up, dinner's in 15 minutes." James ordered, standing and leaving the train compartment, leaving Bellamy and Clarke alone.

"I'm gonna go get ready." Bellamy mumbled awkwardly, leaving as well.

Clarke followed, finding her way to her compartment. She opened the doors and almost gasped. The room itself was bigger than her house back at home. It was decorated with flowing curtains and artful tapestries. Glass vases filled with bright flowers decorated the mahogany tables, and a king sized bed sat in the center of the room, adorned with silk sheets and wool blankets. "Wow." she whispered, smiling despite the circumstances. She opened the closet, eyes widening at all of the clothes. They came in a variety of fabrics and an impossible range of colors, from the richest red to the deepest blue. Clarke pulled out a pale green t-shirt and a pair of jeans, changing quickly. She brushed her hair and looked in the mirror for a moment before walking out to meet Bellamy.

"Hey." A deep voice greeted her, and she smiled slightly.

"Hey Bellamy" She replied quietly, walking with him to the dining compartment.

They walked in together and sat at the table with James. An amazing display of food was set out in front of them, and the two tributes dug in. The table remained silent, no attempts to start conversation surfacing. Dinner ended quickly, and Clarke and Bellamy stood up.

"We're going to sleep. Night." Clarke called out, leaving with Bellamy close behind.

Clarke stopped before her train compartment, watching Bellamy as he continued on to his own, before slipping inside of her temporary room. She changed quickly before collapsing in the bed, quickly falling asleep.

She was woken by a soft knock on her door.

"We'll be there in half an hour, if you want to get ready." James called.

Clarke groaned and got up, getting ready as fast as she could before going out into the hall. She looked out the window, watching as they crossed the bridge into Panem. Brightly colored rooftops flashed at the edge of her vision as people waved and grinned at the slowing train. The residents of the Capital were covered in all sorts of ridiculous "fashion statements", as they were called. The train stopped, and cameras started to flash. Clarke turned around, searching for Bellamy. A wave of reassurance coursed through her at his presence, and she stepped out into the chaos, knowing he would be right beside her. The crowd cleared, making way for the group of guards surrounding the tributes. They walked for a while, boarded a shuttle, and eventually reached a huge building. They were ushered through archways, paths, and elevators until they finally reached a door with Bellamy's name on it.

"In you go." One of the guards ordered, opening the door quickly. He closed it as soon as Bellamy went in before opening the next door. "Your turn." Clarke walked in quickly, hearing the door slam behind her and the sound of receding footsteps. She looked around before three strange people caught her eye. They were all grinning. "Hi Clarke!" One of them chirped. "We're your beauty stylists!"

Clarke glanced at them, irritation appearing upon her face as she realized what they were going to do.

"Sit down please!" Another order happily, smiling when Clarke obeyed.

Clarke was forced to undress, have her whole body waxed, scrubbed, and shined, get her hair cleaned thoroughly, cut, blow dried, and cut again, and much more. The only thing that got her through the miserable hours was the entertaining thought of Bellamy going through a similar process. She smiled before wincing as they waxed her supposedly bushy eyebrows. Finally, they left her with a robe, saying her costume designer would be with her soon. Clarke put on the flimsy robe and cringed at her sore skin.

"Hi Clarke. My name is Elizabeth. Call me Liz" Clarke looked up at the female figure standing before her, shocked that she wasn't as covered in makeup and jewelry. Clarke nodded.

"I figured we'd get right to it, the parade starts in 2 hours. Maybe we'll have some extra time." Liz continued, holding up a dress. She handed it to Clarke, turning around. "I'll give you some privacy."

Clarke nodded once again and quickly changed into the satin dress, turning and looking in the mirror. Even though she didn't favor fancy clothes, the dress was beautiful. It was a multitude of blues; sky, turquoise, teal, cerulean, all blending together yet standing out with a sheen of sparkles that matched her eyes. The fabric billowed out around her waist down to her feet like the rolling waves of the ocean, complete with white.

Liz turned around with a smile, handing Clarke a matching pair of blue flats before calling the other stylists in. Clarke quickly put her shoes on and sat as she had her hair, makeup, and nails done within two hours.

Clarke quickly thanked Liz before walking out to the square where the chariots were gathered. She stood by the chariot of white horses, waiting for Bellamy to arrive. She heard footsteps behind her, and turned around happily, before her face fell.

"Hey there. You look pretty." The newcomer commented with a flirtatious smile.

Clarke shook her head, going back to petting the horse. "Thanks" she replied, not a trace of emotion in her voice.

"Not who you wanted to see, eh? Anybody special I should know about?"

Clarke turned around, ready to argue, before she saw Bellamy coming. She rolled her eyes, biting back the retort.

Bellamy rested his gaze on the newcomer as he reached Clarke's side.

"Goodbye" he muttered, running off quickly as Bellamy smirked.

"What was that all about?"

"Some flirt" Clarke murmured, turning to look at Bellamy. She looked at his outfit before rising her gaze to meet his.

"You look nice." Bellamy whispered, a rare smile coming onto his face.

Clarke blushed, directing her gaze to her feet. "You too."

At that moment, someone called out that the parade was starting. Clarke got onto the blue and white chariot, Bellamy helping her, just as the horses started to move.

Clarke took his hand, squeezing it lightly. "Here we go."

They were then out in the blinding light, surrounded by thousands of cheering, wild people. Clarke cringed, forcing a smile onto her face. She glanced at Bellamy, who stared straight ahead, and held his hand tightly.

The parade seemed to last an eternity, but at last, it was over. President Jaha stepped forward to the podium, giving a long speech about some bullshit that Clarke didn't care about before looking down at the tributes. "Happy 98th Hunger Games. And may the odds be ever in your favor." He smiled and waved to the crowd as the chariots were led into a dark chamber.

Bellamy hopped off, lifting Clarke off without a second thought, despite her protests.

"That was fun." He commented sarcastically, smirking.

Clarke shook her head even though she smiled slightly.

They were escorted up to their rooms by guards, and shared a silent goodnight before Clarke collapsed in her bed and fell asleep in the gown.

 _ **Yay! Finished! Let me know what you think and please review. Don't worry, the legitimate Hunger Games will start soon. :) I'll write again as soon as I can. Thanks guys, and cheers!**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Hey there everyone!**_

 _ **I decided to write a chapter early because Hurricane Matthew is coming through, and I don't know when I'll have access to technology again.**_

 _ **On a lighter note, I got one little review, so thanks Guest!**_

 ** _Please review, it'll make my day._**

 **Chapter 3:**

Bellamy:

Bellamy slowly opened his eyes as daylight filtered in through the curtains. He momentarily wondered where he was, before the reality of the situation set in. He got up and went to the shower, only glancing at the wide array of buttons inside of the shower. He pressed a few random ones and ended up getting blasted with boiling hot water, scrubbed with some weird soap, and drenched with an ice cold stream, much to his displeasure. He huffed and grabbed a towel, walking out to find something to wear. Bellamy saw a pile of folded clothes just at the entrance to the room, and knew he had to wear them, for training. He quickly changed as he heard a soft tap on his door.

"Bellamy, are you up?" A familiar voice called in, and a faint smile passed across his lips as he opened the door.

"Hey Princess." He teased, walking out with her. "Ready for training?"

"Ready to get your ass kicked?" Clarke replied with a partial smile.

They eventually found their way to the training area, after being pushed there by guards to their annoyance. Bellamy scanned the area, observing each of the tributes. There were some kids as young as thirteen, which greatly angered him, but he held it in. He spotted the kid who tried to flirt with Clarke, and smirked as the kid purposely avoided his gaze.

Clarke nudged him. "Wanna go talk to them?"

Bellamy shook his head, but Clarke grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the conversing group anyways.

The group of tributes went silent as they approached, glancing at each other. Finally, the flirt, as Bellamy mentally nicknamed him, opened his mouth.

"I'm Finn." He introduced himself with a shadow of a smirk. "This is Raven." He gestured to the girl next to him.

"I'm Jasper" Another boy commented, smiling.

Soon, the other tributes chimed in, and Bellamy struggled to memorize the names. _Monty, Miller, Jasper, Finn, Raven, etc._

Clarke smiled slightly. "I'm Clarke." She turned to Bellamy expectantly.

"Bellamy." He said simply, studying each of them.

After all of the tributes arrived, a man stepped forward. "Hello, as you all know, my name is Marcus Kane. I will be training you for the next week and teaching you how to survive." He went on to explain each station, which Bellamy tuned out on, it was pretty self-explanatory. Kane finished, and he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Where do you want to go?"

Bellamy thought for a moment. "I say we split up, master as many things as we can and then get back together." He proposed carefully, and Clarke agreed. As expected, she immediately went over to the herbs section, and he began to walk over to the swords.

After almost a week, he'd learned that he had a strange aptitude for throwing daggers, and he almost preferred them over the trident. He'd gone to almost every fighting station, as well as a few survival ones, trying to better his odds of survival.

On the last day, they were each evaluated seperately. Bellamy showed off his dagger and trident skills with his trademark smirk, before being sent off to get ready to see his score.

He sat with Clarke and James as the scores flashed upon the screen, one by one. He took notes on a small notepad, much to the amusement of Clarke. Clarke received a 8, which he was quite impressed about, while he received an 11, the highest score given out.

"So much for laying low you two." James teased. "What did you two do anyways?"

"Some stuff with plants." She commented vaguely, mind occupied.

Bellamy responded in a few short words about the tridents, for an unknown reason hiding the daggers from his explanation.

James nodded, teasing light gone from his eyes. "Well, you two better get to sleep, the interviews are tomorrow." He stood up and walked to his room.

Bellamy and Clarke soon followed. He stopped outside of her door, concern flashing in his eyes. "What's wrong Clarke?" He asked softly.

"Nothing Bellamy, I'm fine." She replied hastily, an edge to her voice. "Night." Clarke quickly closed the door.

"Women." He muttered, walking to his room, not at all ready for the next day.

"Wake up! Wake up!" He was awoken by the shrill voices of his stylists from the previous week. Bellamy groaned as they practically dragged him out of his bed and began to "make him perfect" as they called it. As they complained about trivial cocktail parties and gossiped about other people, Bellamy zoned out, thinking of strategies for the games. He was eventually jarred back to reality by the overly excited stylists squealing at his new outfit. He grabbed it and quickly changed, looking in the mirror. It was a navy blue suit with accents of teal and cerulean with a sky blue tie and a white undershirt. He shook his head, walking out to be tortured by the stylists once more, before he was finally let free, to talk to James until lunch.

"Don't you look snazzy?" James commented as Bellamy walked in.

Bellamy smirked slightly at the remark, sitting down quickly.

"So, tell me, what's your approach going to be in the interview? Tributes come off as angry, ruthless, sexy, cheerful, innocent, and many others." James started, before adding "Obviously the last few won't work for you" with a chuckle.

Bellamy rolled his eyes, shrugging.

This went on, until eventually, they'd formed a plan. Lunch ensued, followed by practice on how to act properly and what to expect from Taylor, the interviewer. Eventually, he was forced into a dimly lighted, cramped room with all of the other tributes. He spotted Clarke and walked over, sitting down on the small couch next to her and taking in her outfit.

She was wearing a teal dress that clung close to her body, with ruffled fabrics from the waist down. The ruffles were a variety of blues, accentuated with white, causing it to look like waves. Sparkles practically covered the dress like fairy dust, catching even the tiniest glimmer of light. Complementing the outfit were sky blue high heels, silver bracelts and a silver necklace, with glittery blue eyeshadow.

Bellamy smiled slightly as he watched Clarke take in his suit. "I see why I call you Princess." He remarked.

A tinge of pink showed up on her cheeks, almost undetectable in the dim light. She grabbed his hand, grinning for a moment before it disappeared, replaced with a frown.

The first tribute was called, Harper, if Bellamy was remembering correctly, and before he knew it, Clarke was called. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as she got up, knowing she'd be fine.

Taylor went through the questions, and Clarke answered, taking on the quiet approach. Bellamy knew she did it out of anger, and he could hardly blame her. Before he knew it, her time was up, and it was his turn. He stood, walking out into the blinding lights and obnoxious cheers of the crowd. He quickly sat in the chair next to Taylor, taking a deep breath.

Taylor began with some small talk, asking a few light questions, before her face went serious. "So, you volunteered for someone in your district. What motivated you to do that?"

Bellamy chewed on his lower lip, thinking, before responding. "I didn't want to see someone else go into the arena."

Taylor nodded, talking about some more trivial questions. "We're nearly out of time, so I'll just ask one more thing. I know there's hundreds of girls who are absolutely _in love_ with you..."

Wild cheers and squeals from some girls fell upon his ears. He was dying to roll his eyes, but held back.

"So, they want to know, is there anyone special back home?"

Bellamy nodded with the slightest smirk upon his face. "Yes, there is."

Taylor sighed in mock disappointment. The buzzer then, thankfully, went off, and Bellamy stood up.

Taylor looked into the crowd and called out "Let's give it up for Bellamy Blake!"

Thunderous applause echoed throughout the area as he was led off stage. He saw Clarke going to the elevator and walked briskly to catch up. As he stood next to her, she smirked. "So, who's that special girl back at home, huh?"

Bellamy groaned, before smirking as well. "Why, you interested?"

Their banter continued throughout the whole elevator ride, allowing them to, temporarily, forget their troubles.

They went off to their rooms, knowing it was their last night here. Bellamy changed and got into the huge bed, closing his eyes without success. A tapping noise caused him to get up and open the door.

Clarke stood outside, eyes bloodshot. "Can I come in?"

Bellamy nodded and she engulfed him in a hug. Bellamy held her close to him, taking a deep breath. Clarke finally broke away, gazing up at him. "Thanks. See you tomorrow?"

Bellamy smiled reassuringly in response, and eventually fell asleep.

The next morning he was woken up by the loud call of James. "It's time."

He got up, changed into the arena uniform. It was made of insulated, water proof material, so Bellamy assumed they'd be swimming, much to his benefit. He ate a huge breakfast before being forced into a small room with a cylindrical tube.

"1 minute remaining." A robotic voice echoed. A door opened, and James walked in.

"Just came to wish you good luck. Don't do anything stupid." James shook his hand with a forced smile, and Bellamy responded with a slight tip of his head.

"15 seconds remaining."

Bellamy stepped inside of the tube and it immediately sealed around him.

"Survive." James mouthed, and then the tube slowly moved upwards, into the blinding light.

 _ **So, finally, the Games are going to start. Just for reference, here's a list of the tributes:**_

 _ **District 1:**_

 _ **Harper and Murphy**_

 _ **District 2:**_

 _ **Charlotte and Wells**_

 _ **District 3:**_

 _ **Monroe and Sterling**_

 _ **District 4:**_

 _ **Clarke and Bellamy**_

 ** _District 5:_**

 ** _Roma and Myles_**

 ** _District 6:_**

 ** _Fox and Atom_**

 ** _District 7:_**

 ** _Gina and Mbege_**

 ** _District 8:_**

 ** _Trina and Pascal_**

 ** _District 9:_**

 ** _Mel and Miller_**

 ** _District 10:_**

 ** _Raven and Finn_**

 ** _District 11:_**

 ** _Keenan and Monty_**

 ** _District 12:_**

 ** _Maya and Jasper_**

 ** _Sorry, they're not all from the original 100, apparently there's a shortage of girls xD_**

 ** _Please review, it makes this whole thing worth it._**

 ** _Cheers!_**

 ** _Red_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**So, I'm back again with another chapter. I would've waited until next week, but I had some inspiration come to me, so I decided to start writing. Eventually I'll get to a normal schedule. xD**_

 _ **Anyways, still only one review, it'd be great to get a couple more.**_

 ** _Enough rambling on, let's get to the next chapter._**

 ** _Happy 98th Hunger Games!_**

 **Chapter 4**

Clarke:

The disk that she was standing on slowly rose up, obstructing her view of Liz and replacing it with cement all around her. Sunlight blinded her as she squinted, and a splash of salty water splattered her clothes. Clarke looked around, eyes adjusting, and took in her surroundings. She spotted Bellamy diagonal from her, and tipped her head towards the water, then towards the Cornucopia. She saw him give a subtle thumbs-up and almost smiled, until she heard a voice start the countdown over the speaker.

"Happy Hunger Games! And once again, may the odds be ever in your favor!" The announcer paused "60, 59, 58..."

Clarke quickly analyzed the tributes around her, forcing herself to feel a burning anger.

"37, 36, 35..."

The anger, at Jaha and the Capitol, motivated her, and she got into position to dive into the water.

"24, 23, 22..."

Clarke continued to watch the tributes around her get ready, some shaking with fear and others with fury. After a few seconds, she turned to gaze at Bellamy, only to find he was placing his piercing dark stare upon her.

"10, 9, 8..."

'You got this Princess' He mouthed, determination in his eyes as he turned back to the water.

Clarke nodded, crouching down and digging her fingers into the side of the metal plate.

"4, 3, 2, 1"

A loud horn blared from the sky, and Clarke leapt forward, swimming as fast as she could. Tributes around her struggled to keep up, and failed as she pulled herself ashore, grabbing packs of weapons and supplies.

A crunch sounded from behind her, and she whirled around, trident in hand, only to lower it at the sight of Bellamy. She raised it again as Bellamy lifted a dagger, and threw it straight at her. The spinning blade grazed her shoulder as she ducked, only to land with a sick thud in a body behind her. Clarke whirled around to see Mbege fall the ground, spear in hand.

Bellamy was gathering supplies when Clarke turned back around, nauseated. After they both had as much as they could carry, and other tributes began to arrive, they fled, sprinting away without anybody noticing.

Clarke ran by Bellamy's side on the beach, through the grassy area, and into the woods.

After what seemed like hours, they both slowed down and stopped at a tree.

"After you." Bellamy commented, no emotion in his voice as he motioned towards the tall oak. They had learned how to climb when they were young, knowing the skill could be useful one day.

She began to scale the tree, closely followed by her ally. She reached a particularly leafy, thick branch, and crawled onto it, turning to Bellamy once she was settled down. "So, where'd the sudden knife talent come from?" She asked, trying to forget everything else.

"Training." Bellamy replied grimly, sitting next to her on another limb of the oak. He took off one of the two bags he'd grabbed, and began to look through it, pulling out an empty bottle of water, rope, a bag of dried fruit, some nuts, beef jerky, and a few packs of crackers. The other bag held pretty much the same, except it also had an insulated sleeping bag.

Clarke rumaged through her backpacks, finding some weapons and food, as well as a water bottle and some iodine, for purification of water. She pulled out her knives that she had hastily grabbed, and gazed at them, before holding her trident and glancing at Bellamy.

He was opening a box filled with daggers of all shapes and sizes, but surprisingly, no trident. "You took the only trident." he suddenly said with a shrug. As usual, it was as if he'd read her mind.

Clarke watched as he used some of their rope to tie their things to the branches and nodded, staying silent.

The pair didn't talk much until the temperature dropped, and Bellamy unrolled the insulated sleeping bag. He waved Clarke over when he saw her shudder, and she reluctantly crawled over and into the large sleeping bag.

"What about you?" She murmured, before a stubborn look appeared upon her face. "Get in."

Bellamy opened his mouth to protest, but closed it, and Clarke nodded in approval, a smile ghosting across her lips. She pressed against him, and soon fell asleep, knowing that they would be able to live to see the next day.

After what felt like just a few moments, a loud sound of trumpets jerked her out of her sleep. The nightly death toll began to flash across the sky, showing a surprisingly low number of two, Keenan from District Eleven, and, of course, Mbege from District Seven.

Clarke turned to Bellamy, finding him to be wide awake and staring at the sky. He was wearing a mask, metaphorically speaking, and hiding all of his emotions. She wasn't sure if it was from her, the cameras, or both, but she decided not to press it.

Clarke sighed, closing her eyes and rolling over. In a short time, she fell into a light sleep, managing to push her thoughts to the back of her mind.

Bellamy:

Without her knowledge, Bellamy remained awake, constantly combing the forest with his eyes. He was too anxious and disturbed to sleep, as well as fearful that they would be found. He stayed awake until the sun just began to rise, hand on his dagger.

A crunch sounded in the almost silent forest, and Bellamy got out of the bag and packed everything up, just for safety, so they could run if needed. He let Clarke sleep some more, figuring she'd need the extra rest, and continued to gather their things, all the while constantly glancing in the direction of the ground.

The sounds of laughter echoed, barely audible to his ears. Bellamy tightened his grip on his dagger, the crunches turning into crashing noises that increased with volume every second.

"Bellamy?" Clarke murmured sleepily.

"Go back to sleep" He whispered, eyes glued to the forest.

The causes of the noise came into view.

Three kids, he couldn't see who, were parading through the forest, grins plastered upon their faces. They had different weapons, and obviously were looking to kill.

The one with the bow and arrow stopped suddenly at the base of their tree. "The tracks end here."

Clarke cursed under her breath. "We should've known to cover the tracks." She murmured, moving to sit up.

It was as if the world started to move in slow motion.

The kid on the ground pulled back the string of his bow, aiming the arrow at their tree.

He glanced at Clarke, who was positioning herself right in the line of fire.

Bellamy turned back to the shooter, watching as he shot the arrow and it flew straight towards its target.

 _ **I switched perspectives in the middle of the chapter, I'll probably continue to do that as I see fit. Let me know if anybody gets confused.**_

 _ **Sorry for the cliffhanger, I thought it'd be good. :)**_

 ** _I hate to beg, but please review!_**

 ** _Thanks,_**

 ** _Red_**


	5. Note

**_Hey everyone!_**

 ** _Though I like the idea of this story, inspiration is not coming to me, and thus, I'm putting this story on hold for a while._**

 ** _Let me know if you really want this continue soon, and I may change my mind. A_**

 ** _Anyways, cheers!_**


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